


kisses tasting like chronic

by stormfree



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon? Don’t know her, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, The Author Regrets Everything, Very Canon Divergent, Young Angela Ziegler, Young Genji Shimada, is this meet cute?? I Don’t Actually Know, just babys being babys, like A BIT but its mostly, meet cute, they’re like 20ish here, title from phoebe ryan’s chronic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormfree/pseuds/stormfree
Summary: angela didn’t know where the young master went every night, but she did know that he picked fights with people evidently much stronger than him.or, an au where angela and genji meet when angela becomes genji’s personal nurse for whenever he gets hurt from being a Rebellious Young Adult™(alternative title: the angel and her sparrow)
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	kisses tasting like chronic

**Author's Note:**

> i started this mess on 16/2/19 and after 15 months of it just Sitting in my Drafts, finally fucking finished it. oh my god
> 
> have this self-indulgent gency Mess that i Slaved Over
> 
> disclaimer: i know fuck all about medical stuff or how Technology works and most of this is a huge middle finger to canon

Angela didn’t know where the young master went every night, but she did know that he picked fights with people evidently much stronger than him. 

When she first came to Hanamura, she wasn’t looking to be a personal nurse. She’d caught wind of a small hospital that needed more doctors, and sticking to the decision she’d made right out of medical school (“Go where help is needed”), she had answered the call. 

Turns out it was a hoax, and it wasn’t a new hospital that needed a doctor. It was, instead, a yakuza clan that needed a personal caregiver to treat the second Shimada son when he got into violent altercations.

She’d been tricked into caring for an arrogant, spoiled man child toting around all the cliché, common vices: drinking, sex, and starting fights just for the sake of starting fights. 

Needless to say, she was not happy, but it wasn’t like she could overpower an entire clan of thugs to escape. For one, she took an oath to do no harm, and she didn’t intend to ever break it. Secondly, she had no prior fighting experience at all. How could she hope to vanquish even one well-trained henchman?

So she stayed silent and let them lead her into their estate. There, she’d been introduced to the first son, the heir to the metaphorical throne, who had explained what she was here for; caring for his wayward younger brother and patching him up when needed.

All she needed to do, he had told her with furrowed eyebrows and mouth in a heavyset, grim line, was to get him back to full health whenever he came back from fights. 

And, he had paused and added, to keep out of sight of his father.

In an odd way, she pitied Hanzo Shimada. The poor man bore the weight of training to be the next clan leader, his current duties as a yakuza prince, and his brother all on his shoulders. Every time Angela saw him in the two weeks she’d been stuck here, he looked stressed, with his lips set into a permanent thin line. 

He really did love his little brother, she could tell. The way he protected him from the wrath of his father and other higher-ups… That was true brotherly love. 

The same could not be said of Genji, however. He seemed to resent the whole clan, including his brother, for trying to rein him in and get him involved in issues regarding his family business. 

The brick phone that Hanzo had given her buzzed, disrupting her thoughts. There was only a calling and messaging app, and it only had one contact, which was Hanzo. 

“ _orange sparrow._ ”, the message read.

Although simple, the text was not to be taken simply as a summoning. As paranoid as he was that his father would find out about Genji’s nightly activities, Hanzo had created a code to text to Angela after he came back every night; green meaning no injury (which was rare), yellow meaning slightly injured, and orange meaning a serious injury. 

There was also red, which meant life-threatening, but the Hanzo had doubted he would get into that big of trouble (“He’s foolish, but not that foolish.”).

Angela grabbed her medical kit and headed into Genji’s room, where she was expected to wait.

Looking around, there wasn’t any visible change from the last time she was here; the same clean sheets graced the same soft bed, the same clean scent of soap, the same few old pictures hung on the otherwise barren walls.

As she waited, she let her thoughts wander.

Sometimes she wondered why she didn’t try harder to escape. Surely there would be at least one solution that didn’t involve harming another. But she did find Genji fascinating and — dare she say it — attractive. At least she was still helping people.

Just maybe not the people who needed it the most.

She sighed inwardly.

Speaking of people who needed more help, the Shimada heir stepped into the room, supporting his little brother’s lean figure. 

Angela’s fingers itched to help him. Hanzo was _really_ very stressed. She didn’t know much about chiropractic or acupuncture yet (it was on her to-learn list!), but she could tell that he definitely needed a physical therapy session in light of his strenuous training and mental health.

She forced herself to switch her attention to the person who currently needed more urgent help, stepping aside so that Hanzo could place him on the bed. 

A cut ran from his left forearm to his shoulder. Upon further inspection, it didn’t look as deep as she had originally thought, but there was a chance it could already be infected. 

Assuring Hanzo that it looked worse than it actually was, she got to work, cleaning the area around the wound and the cut itself. 

“This might sting a bit,” She said softly to Genji, trying to be as soothing as possible. 

But Genji simply shot her a smirk, meeting her steady gaze head on with unfocussed eyes. “For others, perhaps. But I… I am of higher… caliber.” 

For a twenty-year-old, he really did act immature. 

He was also very intoxicated, so maybe that was why. 

Angela rolled her eyes and froze, immediately regretting it. Genji could have her killed if he took offence. Unfortunately for her, he saw it and grinned widely, as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Relax,” He slurred. “I’m not that uptight. Hanzo, on the other hand…” He leaned in closer, smelling of blood, sweat and alcohol. “He’d probably have you beheaded.” He whispered conspiratorially. 

Angela wrinkled her nose and continued with her work, keeping a firm hand on his arm. “Stay still,” She muttered.

“I heard that, Genji.” Hanzo said sharply from a small distance away, glaring at his brother. “And as long as she does not disrespect anyone else, I am completely fine with her insulting you.” 

Genji scoffed at that, grumbling under his breath while Angela hid a small smile.

A ping sounded, and Hanzo looked down at the phone in his hands. His frown deepened.

“I will be taking my leave,” He announced, casting a stern look down at his younger brother. “Genji, behave.”

And with that, he turned on his heel smoothly and left, sliding the door closed behind him. 

“So… Guess it’s just you and me now, huh?”

The young doctor ignored the yakuza prince, turning and busying herself with the gauze bandages. He’d been like this since she’d first arrived, and was kind of desensitised to it already, this being her — what, fourth time dealing with him?

She whirled back around, murmuring, “Hold still,” as she wrapped the gauze around the wound and subconsciously patting it once she was done.

“You should be fully healed in about two weeks. Try to refrain from any strenuous physical activity until then and just take it slow.” Angela advised, mind wandering off. 

Given the nature of the cut and the severity, it would take more time than a normal nick, and it would be painful, too. 

She had to give kudos to Genji, though. He hadn’t flinched once throughout the entire process. 

It did get her thinking about the length of the recovery period of injuries just in general. When she had just gotten into medical school — or maybe even before medical school, maybe even when she fell down as a child and had to suffer through weeks of discomfort and pain — she’d always wondered whether it was possible to actually alter the speed of recovery.

_If only there was a way…_

She blinked, snapping back to reality, blue eyes meeting dark brown.

He stared intensely, as if he was looking into her soul. They held eye contact for a few seconds, but Angela eventually looked away, cheeks reddening. 

Genji grinned at this, a boyish smirk gracing his sculpted features. “You’re so cute,” He teased, voice light. 

Angela, willing herself with all her might not to go redder, shut her mouth tightly, her lips forming a thin line.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Shimada?” 

He leaned back into the soft mattress, eyes raking over her body as he smirked. “Yes, but I’m not sure if you’d be willing to give it to me.” 

His eyes roved up and down her body, and he licked his lips for extra effect. “If you know what I mean.” 

Angela bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Good night, Mr. Shimada.” She said, grabbing her things and retreating. 

There was a flash of something in his eyes as she moved away, and his expression changed, but it was only for a second, and Angela was left to ponder on that for a while after that interaction.

He put on a cocky face once more, calling out, “Call me Genji,” as she left. 

Over the next few weeks, Angela grew fonder of the dark-eyed ninja, though she’d never admit it out loud. As he was often drunk, it was easier to talk to him as he never seemed to remember what they had talked about the next morning.

(Plus, after a while, he’d seemed to have dropped the flirty persona. He still flirted, sure, but it was less predatory and more playful than anything.)

He was a better listener than she had first perceived him to be, and he made her laugh. There was more to him than a spoiled, rich playboy, and Angela longed to bring that side of him out.

But their time spent only consisted of the little time they had when she was patching him up, nothing beyond that. 

Irrationally, she wanted to talk to him more. She sort of craved his company, which she knew was not good. Getting involved with patients ended badly, especially with patients like Genji.

So she forced herself to place her feelings at the very back of her mind, and focus on thinking of him as what he was - her patient.

Unfortunately, Genji had other plans. 

“Stay with me.”

Angela paused in her movements. “What?”

“Stay with me tonight.” 

“If you’re worried about your injuries acting up when I’m not around, you really shouldn’t be. You'll be fine -”

He cut her off, rolling his eyes. “Angela, I’m not worried about my injuries. I just want to spend some time with you.”

The young doctor shot him a weird look, though butterflies materialised in her stomach. “You know I can’t be with you that way, right?” 

Hanzo had never directly told her not to get involved with Genji romantically, but she considered it an unspoken thing, and just a rule in general when it came to patients.

His face dropped slightly. “I know. But you don’t have to stay the whole night. I just want to talk.” 

She nodded slowly, trying her best to mask the anticipation that threatened to flood her expression with a smile.

 _It’s just a talk between a doctor and her patient,_ she scolded herself. _You shouldn’t be so excited about this._

She took a breath and tried to still her heart.

After she successfully calmed herself down, she took a seat on the wooden chair beside his bed and got comfortable. Making eye contact, she smiled softly. “Tell me about your childhood.”

* * *

After that, staying over became a routine thing.

She’d sit on the chair beside the bed and fall asleep on him as Genji slept peacefully, his arm wrapped awkwardly but sweetly around her. Angela would wake up with cramps in her neck, but a little bit of pain was worth the time she got to spend with the ninja who she might have developed some feelings for — alright, fine, a lot of feelings for.

Even though Genji had said that she didn’t need to stay the whole night, she still found herself unable to leave whenever her eyes got heavy and the warmth of the ninja beside her seemed oh-so comfortable. 

The conversations between them were intimate and deep, much deeper than Angela would’ve thought he could hold while being intoxicated.

Genji told her about the stories his father used to tell him; vivid stories about samurais and dragons, about sparrows and demons, about animal spirits and monsters. Angela hung on every word, listening intently as if to make up for the bedtime stories she hadn’t heard when she was a child.

In turn, Angela told him about how she’d managed to become the youngest ever person to get her medical degree, to which Genji had ruffled her hair playfully and teased, “My smart girl,”, causing her cheeks to flare red.

After a few weeks of being each other’s closest confidants, she noticed that he was getting significantly less hurt than usual. 

Hanzo’s texts now mostly consisted of “green”s, at worst a “yellow”. Although Angela was relieved that Genji had stopped picking fights and putting himself in danger, she was also oddly disappointed. After all, green meant she couldn’t see him.

That is, until she received a message from an unknown number that simply said, _Come over ;)_.

Despite her exasperation at the immaturity of his text, she couldn’t refuse him. Giving in to her heart’s incessant demanding to see him, Angela snuck into his room, where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, an easy grin plastered across his face.

“How did you text me?” She whispered as she shut the door and padded over to the chair beside Genji’s bed. 

“For a soon-to-be crime lord, Hanzo does not keep his phone guarded very well.” Genji said this lightly, but Angela could sense a bit of resentment under his otherwise playful tone.

Angela’s gut tightened. She knew he didn’t like his family and despised being part of a criminal organisation, and she really couldn’t blame him, but he seemed much more on edge than he usually was.

“Genji, are you okay?” She asked softly, not wanting to rile him up further.

Genji seemed to shake off whatever had been bothering him and smiled, a genuine, pure smile, something that she’d been seeing more and more nowadays, and also something that made her heart thump loudly in her chest. “Better now that you’re here, Dr. Ziegler.” 

It was cheesy, but despite herself, her heart _da-dum_ ed louder.

Angela rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Deciding to drop the subject, she sat down cross-legged.

She looked around the room, noticing how the few pictures had been taken down, leaving the room all the more barren. 

She opened her mouth to ask Genji about it, but before she could say a word, he blurted out a question that made Angela’s heart _stop._

“Can I kiss you?”

_What?_

Angela’s eyes flitted back to him to find the ninja’s eyes locked onto her and her alone, unmoving.

_What did he say?_

Her mouth fell open slightly as she tried to comprehend that this was _real_ , this was _really happening…_ and she took no notice of how his eyes dipped down to settle on her lips.

Voices whispered in her head.

_Hanzo would kill you._

_This is so wrong. He’s your patient!_

_If you make this mistake, you will be punished -_

_It would be so worth it, though._

“I — I…” She hesitated for half a second, enough for the already-unsure smile on Genji’s face to slip, and he opened his mouth, as if to take back his words, but before he could —

_Ah, to hell with it._

She closed the distance between them.

She could feel the grin on his lips.

Angela’s eyes fluttered closed, heart racing as something warm and fuzzy took over her entire being.

She’d never kissed anyone before, and this definitely set the bar. She also didn’t really know what to do, but he could probably tell.

Genji took control with ease, his left hand moving up her body to tangle in her hair, and his right hand grazing up and down her side as if he couldn’t decide where to settle.

Angela eventually decided to loop her arms around his neck, and he responded by pulling her closer. 

Angela was surprised when his tongue slipped easily into her mouth, and even more so when she unwittingly let a noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a squeak out of her mouth, to which Genji only kissed her with more fervour.

It was all sorts of hungry, like he had been stranded in a desert and Angela was a tall glass of water. It was passionate and wild, like he would never see her again and this was his only chance to ever taste her. 

It was spectacular, like two stars going supernova in each other’s arms. 

She cupped both his cheeks, feeling his warm, smooth skin on her fingertips as they broke apart eventually to breathe, Genji resting his hands firmly on her waist.

Angela leant her forehead against Genji’s, savouring their closeness as she tried to catch her breath, exhilaration in her veins and a stupid grin on her face.

She felt like she was melting into a puddle of joy.

“That was…” The doctor tried to think of an adjective amazing enough to describe what had just happened. 

Genji chuckled. “Too overwhelming for you?” He teased. 

She rolled her eyes, pulling away and retorting, “That was a mistake,” a ghost of a smile still on her lips.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “You wound me, Angela. Come lie with me.” 

“What makes you think I’d want to lay with you?” She countered easily.

“My irresistible charm and handsome good looks.” 

Grumbling under her breath, she conceded that he wasn’t necessarily wrong and slipped under the sheets with him. 

His hands curled around her waist and she snuggled her face into his chest, heart still racing in her chest. 

A bout of comfortable silence passed before a thought hit her, and an inkling of doubt crawled through the clutches of sleep to gnaw at her.

“We don’t have to do anything else, right?” 

Genji laughed softly. “Of course. I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do, my flower.” 

“Thank you,” She whispered back, relieved. To be completely honest, she liked him, but she definitely wasn’t ready for that yet, and she hadn’t been sure if that was the only thing he wanted from her.

Angela slumbered peacefully in the young Shimada master’s strong arms.

* * *

“So what are we now?” Angela asked one day, her head in Genji’s lap as he played absentmindedly with locks of her golden hair, twirling them around his finger and tugging playfully on them.

It was a hot, lazy Sunday afternoon that also happened to be Genji’s day off. Rays of sunlight streamed through the half-down blinds and fell onto Angela’s outstretched body, and she curled into it, basking in the warmth. 

Ever since their kiss, they’d grown inseparable. For every word that Hanzo would have texted Angela back in the beginning, Genji would send 3 texts peppered with hearts and occasionally, certain inappropriate emojis.

Genji looked down at her affectionately, a goofy grin on his face. “We can be anything you want us to be. If you want, I could be your friend, boyfriend, or just a fuckbuddy.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

Angela snorted, turning to him and smacking his shoulder lightly. “Genji.” 

“Kidding, kidding.” His expression morphed into something more serious, his eyes brightening.

Angela couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was, with the sunlight illuminating him and giving his skin a warm glow, with the light weaving through his dark hair and his eyes shining with mirth.

She had never been an artist — she couldn’t paint to save her life — but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that this particular moment couldn’t be captured in a Renaissance-like portrait, with every detail of his hair and clothes carefully blended together to create something beautiful and ethereal, because that’s exactly how he looked right now.

Absolutely stunning, and god-like, if she were to be slightly generous.

He hummed contemplatively, effectively shaking her out of her thoughts, and she focused back on Genji.

“We can take it slow, if you want. Right now, we don’t have to be anything if you don’t feel comfortable.” He leaned closer to peck a kiss onto her nose, and she laughed softly.

“It’s up to you.” His eyes searched hers, sepia staring into crystal blue.

He looked the most serious Angela had ever seen him, and it made her heart swell that he wasn’t treating their relationship lightly. 

“I’d like to go slow, if that’s okay with you.” 

He kissed her again, this time on her forehead. “Of course it’s okay with me, my angel.”

Angela beamed. Her stomach swirled, but in a good way. Her heart fluttered. “That’s good to know, my sparrow.”

* * *

“Angela?” 

“Hm?” The doctor’s eyes were fixed on the book she was currently reading as she leaned back into Genji’s warm embrace. A pair of glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose.

He put his chin on her head. “I have something I’d like to show you.”

Angela hummed noncommittally. “Is that so?” 

“Well — rather, _someone_ I’d like you to meet.”

Hearing his words, Angela blinked and closed the book slowly.

Genji didn’t talk much about the company he kept (used to keep?) outside the Shimada gates, and she’d never really asked. Could it be someone he was extremely close to who happened to live within the grounds?

Her curiosity was piqued, and she watched as Genji turned to her and closed his eyes in concentration. 

Angela raised a golden eyebrow. What exactly was he trying to —

The thought was cut off, and she let out a gasp as a green _dragon_ that looked to be made out of holography or some kind of light projection manifested on Genji‘s shoulder. 

“I — What?” Angela couldn’t hide the absolute shock and confusion in her tone. “ _What is that?_ ”

Genji merely gave her a cheeky grin and gestured at the dragon exaggeratedly. “Angela, meet Soba.”

Soba chittered and leaned closer to Angela, and she _swore_ it was squinting as it took a look at her.

Angela had no idea what to say. Was she supposed to greet it as she would a pet? Would that be respectful? Or was she supposed to treat it like another human being? “Ah…” 

Genji’s grin grew wider and infinitely more shit-eating. Evidently, he was taking immense schadenfreude in her loss for words. “Don’t be shy, Angie. He doesn’t bite.”

Wordlessly, Angela held out a single finger to the dragon, as if she were offering a bird a place to perch on.

Soba chirruped happily and hopped onto Angela’s waiting finger, and she was surprised to find that despite seemingly being made of some sort of projection, it had some weight to it.

Angela balanced it precariously on her finger, ensuring that it wouldn’t fall before turning a stern gaze on Genji, and demanding him to _explain, now._

Unfortunately, trying to look stern and intimidating while balancing a mini baby dragon made out of light on a finger proved to be harder than Angela thought. 

Genji took one look at her and burst out laughing.

When he eventually collected himself, wiping false tears from his eyes dramatically, he said, “This is Soba, my spirit dragon.”

Angela squinted at Genji. “Your _what_?”

It took Genji the whole afternoon to explain that _yes, it was a family thing, no, it didn’t appear from his sword, no, he doesn’t know how it works, yes, he’s tried to figure it out, yes, he gets bigger in battle, no, Soba isn’t its “official” name, but the name it originally had was so serious and pretentious that he decided to rename it Soba instead._

* * *

“What does he see in you?” 

Angela blinked, looking up. “Pardon?”

A servant was standing in the doorway, her stance offensive and pointed. She wasn’t holding the doctor’s lunch that Hanzo had someone bring every day around this time.

The kind, weathered face of the maid that she had become accustomed to seeing three times daily had been replaced with the spiteful visage of a scorned teenager in servants’ clothes.

“Master Genji,” She repeated through a narrowed glare. “What does he see in you?” 

“I’m not sure I understand -” She started, but the girl cut her off.

“I know about you two,” She practically hissed, eyes flashing, and Angela’s heart dropped.

“I’ve seen the two of you together, and don’t think you’re getting away with it. I’m telling Lord Sojiro and Master Hanzo so they’ll take you and kill you, and I can finally be with my true love.” She lifted her chin in defiance at Angela, just as her brain processed the words and she realised what exactly was happening.

Ah.

This poor girl had fallen for the easy charms of a certain ninja, and was evidently very passionate about her love.

“I know that you seduced him into being with you. You’re just some common whore pretending she’s all that, and I’m going to make him see that. You don’t deserve him. He belongs to _me._ ” She spat poison-filled words at Angela, speech marinated in as much disrespect as humanly possible.

Angela resisted the urge to snort, feeling like that would just make things worse, but as she opened her mouth to speak, a voice cut through the tension, like _Ryūichi moji_ slicing through bone.

“Do I now?” 

Angela’s eyes flicked to the source of the voice, despite already knowing who it was.

Genji stood there in his training attire, eyes smouldering with an emotion she’s never really seen him express before, and a false, overly-sweet smile stretching his features. He was also conveniently brandishing his signature shurikens.

The girl paled as the tenor voice echoed in the empty room, soft and deadly, like the calm before a storm.

She slowly turned to see the object of her affections, and took in the sight of him — the fury in his eyes, the honeyed smile on his face, the lethal weapons he was spinning on his fingers — and made a noise that sounded like a very quiet _‘meep’._

Genji towered over the girl, unwavering. “First you try to blackmail us. You threaten to tell my brother and my father. Then, you insult my beloved. You disrespect Angela even though she’s done nothing against you. Finally, to top it all off, you claim me, _as if_ I belong to you.” 

Genji leaned in closer to the girl, who looked like she was about to run away crying, all signs of earlier bravado gone without a trace. 

His smile morphed into a snarl, and Angela was struck by the similarity of his expression to that of a wild cat poised to attack.

“Are you fucking delusional?” He asked quietly, tone deadly serious as he brought his shuriken-wielding hand dangerously close to her neck.

If he were an inch closer, he would’ve drawn blood.

If he were two inches closer, he would’ve punctured her jugular vein.

Aware of this and fearing for her life, the servant girl flinched, perspiration running down her neck.

Angela knew that this was all for show — there was no way he would actually hurt her, he wasn’t that cruel — and that this was all for intimidation’s sake, but she still couldn’t say she approved.

He held that position a few seconds longer before Angela sighed. 

“Genji…” 

Hearing her disapproval, he backed away, straightening, sneer still on his face. “I do not ever want to see you again.” He declared to the girl. “Begone.” 

And with that, she split, running so fast Angela half expected her legs to fall off. 

The blonde stepped closer to the ninja, embracing him as she stroked her fingers through his raven-coloured hair. “I think you went too far.”

He simply snorted as she tucked her chin into his chest. “I was going to do much worse if you hadn’t been here.” 

_Sure._ She shook her head at the empty words and half-smiled. “You sounded a lot like your brother just now.” 

Genji recoiled. “Don’t compare me to that old grump. I’m way cooler than him.” 

Angela laughed softly, her amusement like the twinkling of fairy lights to him.

His lips curved upwards.

“Of course you are,” She teased, pinching his cheek lightly. 

“Now, could I please have my lunch? I’m famished.” 

He gently touched his forehead to hers. “Of course, my love.”

* * *

Angela was just minding her own business one rainy evening, curled up on her bed with a book and the cold cup of tea Genji had brought by before dinner, when her boyfriend barged into her room, eyes wild. 

“Hide,” was all he said. “ _Now_.” 

She didn’t stop to question him, hastening to seek cover in the small closet of her room. 

It was dusty and cramped, but she trusted Genji. Whatever had compelled him to ask her to do so had to be serious —

And serious it was. 

Through the thin sliding door of the closet, she heard incoherent voices, ones belonging to those she believed to be the very superiors of the yakuza organisation. 

Genji called them the elders, “a bunch of snotty old geezers who sit around all day and think those below them are merely pieces on a shogi board for them to play and dispose of as they wished”. 

She had only heard them once before, in the static of a conference call, but she can tell this is them. After all, what else would Genji try to shield her from?

“Here,” She heard Genji say, “No secret maid here.” 

Thunder crashed in the background.

One of the elders spoke, a cold, regal voice conversing in slow, steady Japanese. Genji fired back in their native tongue without missing a beat, and Angela realised that he spoke in English originally to let her know, even if it was only a sentence, an inkling of what was happening currently.

The conversation continued like this for several minutes: An indifferent, formal voice that sounded just like the one before it posed some kind of statement to Genji, and her love reflected the statements back at them with fire in his tone.

The entire time, her heart pounded in her chest, the storm raging on and providing ambient noise, like the backtrack to the argument. Occasionally, lightning would strike, painting the harsh lines of their shadows clearly through the translucent closet door. She feared that one of them (she estimated at least four of them were there, judging by the voices) might try to inspect the closet and open it to discover her there.

Fortunately for her, the silhouette of a hand sliding open the door never comes.

It was a verbal battle of sorts, one that Genji eventually triumphed in, after pushing back tide after tide of accusation and crushing statements (or so she assumed, she didn’t know much Japanese).

One of the elders present there hummed noncommittally, and footsteps pattered out of the room. 

Genji had won this time.

As he slid open the door, she threw her arms around him, whispering thank you over and over again as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Genji, who had looked tired, looked significantly less worried after she embraced him. She didn’t notice how the hard look in his eyes softened at her touch.

When she calmed down, she asked Genji what _exactly_ they were talking about. 

Genji sighed and began to explain. “Basically, there have been rumours going around that I have a…” He hesitated. “...pet, is how they put it, and was checking to verify that claim.” 

Angela couldn’t hide the disgust and worry on her face as Genji continued, “They were going to take you from me, because they’d heard you have medical qualifications and our clan doctor just died a while back.” 

His gaze hardened. “But I won’t let them have you.”

Concern seeped into Angela’s voice. “And they don’t know I’m here? Didn’t they see my belongings?” 

Genji shook his head. “They were conducting a spot check, so I just said they belonged to another maid in the house.” 

“And the other staff? Wouldn’t they have seen me and told them?”

Genji shook his head again. “The staff living with us are loyal to my immediate family, which includes me, my brother, and my father. They will not speak a word, especially if I specifically command them not to.”

Angela still felt conflicted. “I …”

Genji took her hands in his. “Don’t worry about it, Angela. They won’t take you. We just need to be a little more careful about how we smuggle you out.”

“Smuggle me — What?”

Genji stared at her pleadingly. “You can’t stay here. You know this. It’s too dangerous for you.” 

“I won’t leave you, Genji.” God, she felt like crying from frustration alone.

Genji only sighed. “You’re going to have to.”

* * *

Angela walked into the training room, brow furrowed. “Your father’s sick?” 

Genji didn’t look away from his task, eyes focused on trying to hit the bullseye on his dart board with three shurikens at once. “Yeah, why?”

She frowned, arms akimbo. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Genji shrugged as he aimed, eyes deadest on the target board. “I don’t know. Didn’t think it was of importance.” 

Angela knew of his fragile, complicated relationship with his father. His father had never placed as much pressure on him as he did on Hanzo, and that was part of the reason why Genji resented him and was grateful to him for. 

On one hand, Genji hated how the pressure of being the future leader of the Shimada-gumi had forced Hanzo to morph into a stressed, emotionally-stunted, perhaps even mentally-unwell young adult, but deep down in the darkest parts of his soul, he was thankful that he hadn’t had to face the same treatment. 

It had taken a while for Genji to open up to Angela completely on this issue, but both of them were glad he did. 

Genji had gotten to let the guilt out and according to him, it was like weights having lifted off his chest, while Angela could understand him a little better and also assure him that feeling that way was absolutely normal and didn’t mean he was a bad person or a bad brother.

Overall, it was a cathartic and beneficial experience for both of them, so Angela wasn’t quite sure if what she wanted to do would disrupt that peace by overstepping her boundaries.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, right?

“Let me see him.” 

Genji froze for a few seconds, before shaking it off and glancing over at her, eyes wide and incredulous. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.”

He focussed back on his shurikens, steady gaze returning to the board like the conversation was already over. “No.” 

Angela raised an eyebrow. “And why not?”

Genji spluttered and turned to her. “‘ _Why not?’_? Angie, are you even hearing yourself right now? You want to go see my father, who is the one person you were told never to talk to, and also the one person in the house who has the authority to call up the elders — the other people looking for you?” 

Angela faltered. Okay, maybe he had a point. 

But God, if it was one thing she couldn’t take, was someone sick or ill when she was perfectly capable of at least trying to heal them.

Seeing the conflict on her expression, clear as day, Genji returned his attention to his training. “Don’t do it, Angela. You know it’s not safe.” 

Angela shook her head and turned to leave. 

As she slid open the door, she made the decision to do it anyway, regardless of what Genji had said.

He just didn’t understand.

* * *

After a while of trying to sneak around Hanamura Castle and tailing servants to try and find out where exactly was Lord Sojiro’s quarters, she eventually gave up and asked the nearest servant. 

The maid, who looked to be around thirty, gave her a suspicious look. “And why do you need this information?” 

Angela put on her most cordial smile. “I want to try my best to cure him.” 

Recognition dawned in her eyes, but the servant shook her head. “Many a doctor have tried, nothing seems to help —”

Angela cut her off, still smiling politely. “Still wouldn’t hurt for another to give it a shot, would it?” 

Begrudgingly, the servant conceded, giving her the directions to Sojiro’s quarters. 

As Angela turned to leave, the servant called out behind her. “Wait, do either of the young masters know of this?”

Angela paused to say, “Genji knows,” before turning back and heading off.

It wasn’t _technically_ a lie? He did know she wanted to do this, just not that she actually did do it. It was fine. She wasn’t lying.

She tried her best to reassure herself of her innocence ( _this was all for a good cause!_ ) all the way to Sojiro’s quarters, and when she finally found it, she was surprised she missed it when she was trying to find it.

It was the only one with an electronic sliding door instead of a traditional wooden one, and it looked much more sleek and modern than the surrounding rooms. This was it for sure.

Angela steeled herself before pressing the button to enter. She had dealt with uncooperative patients before, but patients that held genuine power and authority over her was a new one. 

As she raised her hand to press the button, a thought raced through her mind, and she stopped _dead._

It was possible that he’d call the guards on her. Hell, he could have her killed. 

_Scheiße_. She hadn’t thought of that. In retrospect, she really should’ve. If she got thrown out, or killed — 

Genji’s face flashed in her mind.

Was this really worth it? 

Was it?

“ _What are you doing?_ ” A hiss cut through her thoughts.

Looking to the side, she found Hanzo, with fire in his eyes and his bow strapped to his shoulders. 

She winced at his appearance. She hadn’t seen him in a while, what with him being the heir to the Shimada-gumi and all, so she hadn’t noticed that the bags under his eyes had gotten even bigger and more pronounced, the worry lines in his forehead cut deeper, and his posture looking as forced and stick-straight as ever.

According to Genji, Hanzo was only twenty-seven, but the scowl on his face and the stress lines really mean added decades.

He also looked tired, and angry, and God knows that tiredness and anger is the worst combination to be on the receiving end of.

Looking to defuse the tension in the air, she stepped back from his door, and answered his question as swiftly as she could. “I heard your father was ill, and I wished to see if I could do anything about it.” 

Hanzo glared at her, eyes smouldering with irritation and something else she couldn’t quite place. “No,” he spat. “Now leave.”

Angela blinked. “May I ask why?”

“No, you may not. Now leave, and never visit this part of the property again.” Hanzo waved his hand dismissively, as if the conversation was already over. (Hm, she wondered where Genji got it from?)

Angela stayed where she was.

Upon seeing her silent defiance, he made a noise of annoyance. “Do you have a death wish or what? _Leave,_ ” He said, and Angela realised that ‘the something’ else in his expression was _fear_. 

A realisation dawned on her.

Ah.

He was afraid that his father would find out about her. 

Even if it means letting his father die, he wouldn’t tarnish his image of a perfect heir in his father’s and the elders’ eyes.

Hm.

Seeing the spark of _eureka!_ in Angela‘s eyes, Hanzo grew visibly uneasy, fidgeting and narrowing his eyes. The suspicion he harboured morphed easily into anger when she remained silent.

“Leave, Dr. Ziegler,” He said, his voice significantly lower and more dangerous. “Before I have to make you.” 

She bowed. “As you wish.”

She left, still feeling empty, with dissatisfaction humming in her veins. Even if she tried sneaking in, she couldn’t save him. Hanzo would know it was her, and she couldn’t risk the consequences.

And yet, as she returned to her room, where Genji greeted her with a cheeky smile and a tight hug, she found herself feeling slightly grateful that she didn’t lose everything like she could’ve if she did enter that room.

She hated herself for feeling that way, but Genji’s grins and kisses helped tremendously in easing the conflict in her mind and the restlessness in her fingers.

* * *

A single stray thread of the blindfold that Genji had hastily tugged around Angela’s head tickled her cheek, and she fought the urge to remove her hands from his in order to relieve the itch.

“Where are you taking me?” Angela asked, hands placed firmly in Genji’s as he led her somewhere that he had claimed was a “super secret surprise”. 

She supposed that he could be leading her into the forest to be murdered and sacrificed to some cult, but she trusted Genji.

She hadn’t really had much contact with anyone other than the few servants who were assigned to her and Genji. Hanzo hadn’t been contacting her at all, not since the incident outside his father’s room, and she honestly had no idea what he was up to these days.

As much as she wanted to be free, she couldn’t deny how intoxicating living here was, shut away from the outside world, with Genji as her companion. 

“We’re here,” Genji announced, nimble fingers undoing the knot in the simple black cloth. “Ta-da!”

Angela opened her eyes to rest her eyes on the single most high-tech lab she’d seen in her life. 

_Holy shit._ She was pretty sure her jaw was on the floor.

“It’s beautiful!” She exclaimed, rushing forward hastily to reach out and examine every square centimetre of the lab.

It hummed with energy, plastic desks gleaming under the light of fluorescent blue lights shining down from the ceiling. It was deceptively small, with mirrors lining the walls. 

Lab apparatus was neatly placed on the countertops, and machinery occupied most of the space in the deceptively small laboratory. 

She ran her fingers lovingly across the desks, eyes sparkling with wonder. Whirling around, she caught Genji’s gaze, gushing, “This is amazing, Genji, I - How can I ever thank you?” 

A grin was plastered on his face seeing her so happy. “A kiss would be nice.” 

Angela practically jumped Genji, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his face and neck, all the while murmuring “thank you” over and over.

She had confessed her homesickness and how she missed working in a lab a few weeks ago, and so Genji took this piece of information and ran with it, making a makeshift laboratory, much like her own back home.

“Anything for you, Angela,” The ninja hummed contentedly. “I just wish I could do more.” His eyes fell to the floor.

She knew what he meant by that.

Shortly after their kiss, Genji had expressed his frustration of her being stuck here and urged her to leave, but she had refused, saying she couldn’t leave him alone.

“You’ve done enough,” She told him firmly, a faint frown making its way onto her features. “I won’t leave you here alone, Genji. I don’t want you facing all this by yourself.”

“Angie, I’ve been facing all this all my life! I’ll be fine.” Genji lowered his voice. “Listen, I have a contact in Overwatch. They can help. Leave with them. I’ll meet up with you once I tie up some loose ends on my part.” 

He took her hand gently and gripped it, gazing into her eyes imploringly. 

“Please.”

“I…” Angela tore her gaze to the side. She knew he could convince her if he gave her those puppy-dog eyes. 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was… happy here. It was sort of freeing, being in this little bubble that seemed to contain this estate located in Hanamura. 

She didn’t really have anyone back home to miss — working as hard as she had meant that she had no time for friends whatsoever, her colleagues were just acquaintances at best, her parents had long since been dead, and well, she’d never had a significant other before she met Genji.

It was like the rush and hustle of city life never existed, here in this castle, and with Genji, she honestly didn’t mind. 

She was content just being with him here, no matter how dangerous it seemed at times. 

She didn’t want to go.

She sighed, looking back at him. “Just — at least let me finish some research. I’d like to conduct some experiments on something I believe could help a lot of people out there.” She offered half-heartedly, meaning and yet not really meaning her words.

His eyes softened, chocolate meeting her sky. “Of course. Why else would I build you this lab?”

She leaned in and kissed him, deep and slow. It was sweet, with a tang of melancholy.

When they broke the kiss, their foreheads still together, Angela spoke. “I love you, Genji.”

Genji smiled. “I love you too, my angel.” 

Angela laughed softly. “My sparrow.”

And they stayed together like that, till Genji had to take his leave, and Angela busied herself with her work.

Somehow, as she was sorting through previous hypotheses and other mundane things, she felt like something was going to go very wrong.

* * *

Creating biotic tech was the epitome of the phrase “easier said than done”.

At first, when she had been looking through the work she had managed to pull together from the incident a while ago, she had realised she had to completely redo some experiments and correct others, which would take a decent amount of time.

After a few weeks of hard work that had made her lover worry about her for days on end, she had finally managed to produce a rough prototype of the type of healing nanites that was the end goal.

She grinned down at the glowing, palm-size emitter in her hands, tired blue eyes sweeping over the small object. It would do for now. 

This small object contained the very technology she had been pouring her heart and soul into for the past few weeks of sleepless nights spent away from Genji’s bedroom, poring over her work in the harsh light of the lab.

Genji had come to visit her occasionally, but he had been kept busy with other matters, especially since his father had not been in the best of health lately, and thus relied on his sons to bear some weight of the work.

Ah, that reminded her — she still hadn’t seen Hanzo. She hoped he had been doing well, what with the greater stress of more responsibilities he had to take on due to the condition of his father.

A small needle of guilt pricked her heart, but she willed the feeling away.

She held the fruit of her labour with the care of a mother cradling her newborn child, eyes roving over every inch of it and allowing herself some narcissism as she admired her work.

She didn’t even notice when Genji walked in and sidled over to her, slipping his hands around her waist and pressed a kiss to her neck. 

Angela shivered. Genji smelt like expensive cologne and a home away from home.

She turned to see Genji wrinkle his nose dramatically, and raised an eyebrow.

“How long has it been since you took a shower?”

Angela shrugged. A couple of days? A week? She had no idea.

Genji shook his head. “I know you’ve been working hard, but you still need to take care of yourself.”

He peered over her shoulder, nodding at the emitter she held and raising a curious eyebrow. “What is it, anyway?”

“It’s a biotic emitter. Runs on healing nanites. Theoretically, when I switch it on and place it near a wound, it should significantly speed up and enhance the healing process.” Angela explained, flipping a small switch to demonstrate what she meant. 

The object glowed a warm, inviting yellow, almost gold. Genji hummed, looking entranced as the light shimmered on his skin.

“I came up with the idea of it back when you were still getting into fights, so one could potentially heal faster and more conveniently than what humankind has been doing for the past centuries.” Angela gave him a lopsided smile and set her eyes on her creation.

“It’s still a very rough prototype, and it may not work as well as it should, but it’s something that I believe could radically improve the treatment of life-threatening injuries. It could change the world, Genji.” Switching it off, she looked back up to see an expression of pride and love on his face, so intense she nearly startled.

“I must have been a saint in my past lives to deserve someone like you.” His words were soaked in wonder and affection, lips pulling upwards in a dazed grin.

Angela couldn’t help the blush that crept into her cheeks like an unwanted visitor. Swatting weakly at his shoulder, she scoffed. “You exaggerate.”

Genji nuzzled into her neck. “Never.”

Angela sighed dramatically, but as she opened her mouth to reply, a servant rushed into the room, looking panicked, dispelling the moment.

He looked frantic, eyes darting around as he spoke quickly. “Apologies, Master Genji, I didn’t mean to intrude. Master Hanzo said I might find you here.” He nodded to her absentmindedly. “Miss Angela.” 

Angela greeted him tentatively, gently extricating herself from Genji’s arms.

The servant turned back to Genji, eyes wide. ”I am sad to say that I bring bad news.”

“What is it?”

“Master Genji, I’m so sorry to inform you that Lord Sojiro has…” He hesitated. “Passed.”

Angela watched as the colour drained from Genji’s face, and felt her own stomach churn in response.

She could’ve stopped this. She could’ve helped him.

Did she really make the right choice?

“I —” Genji swallowed and straightened. “When was this?”

“Earlier this morning. We had no idea until his nurse was sent to check on him.” The servant darted his eyes to and fro. “My condolences, Master Genji. Please excuse me.”

He turned and left the lab, closing the door silently.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Genji slumped into a chair, allowing a kneeling Angela to sweep him into a tight embrace. 

She only let go when Genji tapped her shoulder gently.

“How do you feel?” She asked, ignoring the whispers of guilt plaguing her mind.

“Strange.” Genji looked as though he had tasted something extraordinarily bitter. His cheeks were dry. “I can’t say I cared much for his plans for the clan or his methods of controlling Hanamura, but he still protected the two of us from the elders. He was still my father.”

Angela knew this. 

She grabbed his hand and squeezed, letting him know he should let it out.

He shook his head, mouth set in a grim line. “But he was strict. Controlling. Cruel. Unfeeling. And that, I find hard to forgive.” 

Angela knew all this, he’d said this all before. But still, she listened wordlessly, nothing she could say that hadn’t been said before.

Genji stared off into space, eyes unfocused, drifting through the blurry memories of someone now gone. 

Then he clenched his jaw and stood, sharp eyes looking into her own with determination. “We have to get you out of here, _now_ ,” He spoke, eyes blazing.

Angela swore she saw a hint of simmering green fire in his irises. 

“With my father dead, the elders will take over this estate, with Hanzo as their figurehead. I will not be able to hide you any longer, my love.” He stared pleadingly into her eyes.

“We have to contact Overwatch.”

Angela swallowed. It wasn’t like she had a choice. 

“Okay.”

* * *

Angela tapped her fingers against her thigh, staring out the window contemplatively.

She was seated on the bed with her haversack next to her as Genji rummaged through his belongings, discarding what was unneeded and tossing her items that he deemed useful for her trip to the Overwatch base all the way in Gibraltar.

So far, he had given her a smartphone, his winter jacket, and five different types of weapons, several of which she had no clue how to use. When she protested, he just waved his hand dismissively, saying she’d figure it out. 

She wasn’t protesting that she wouldn’t know how to use them, more than she wouldn’t want to use them, but she wasn’t sure if he would understand.

She’d packed all of the few belongings she still had: her clothes she had brought from home, the cellphone Hanzo gave her, and a tiny travel journal she’d given up on a long time ago, around when she’d first met Genji. 

They were mostly useless, yes, but she couldn’t bear to get rid of them. The cellphone, especially, held too much sentimental value.

Genji turned and handed her a few framed photos, which Angela recognised to be the ones that had been hanging on his wall when what seemed to be a decade ago.

Holding them gingerly, she studied them closely.

Most of them were just him and Hanzo through the years, but one was of a smiling middle-aged lady with almond eyes and a kind face. 

Given that it was most probably their mother, who Genji hadn’t said much about, she decided against mentioning it now.

“Take care of these, would you?” Genji had turned back around and was hunched over his desk.

His tone was light, seemingly unbothered by the fact that they were going to be separated.

Angela couldn’t see his face.

“Save me a room for when I get there.” He turned, and Angela only saw a shell of the smirk he usually gave her. His hands were trembling — barely, but she could tell.

She stood, and wordlessly, stepped forward and hugged him. Putting her arms around his neck, she kissed his forehead — a light but caring peck that was silent but said enough — and simply _held_ him.

He moulded to her, burying his face into her shoulder.

He inhaled. 

And exhaled.

She felt the tension leave him, and he melted into her touch, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. Bringing her hand up to absentmindedly stroke his soft hair, she rocked gently, mind a flurry. 

Their intimate silences were always comforting. 

No matter where they were, no matter why they would be there, who matter when it was — as long as they were close together, they didn’t need words. 

It wasn’t that they had nothing to talk about. They always had and as long as trouble kept up with them, they would always have something to discuss. It was purely that they just didn’t require talking to know that they were there for each other and that nothing would change that.

Angela knew he was worried about her. 

Genji knew she was worried about him.

But in the warmth of the silence that enveloped them and secured them together in a bubble that no one could pop, they felt that they would be okay.

But sometimes even the surest of things can turn out to be unpredictable.

* * *

They were supposed to meet an Overwatch representative in a usually-secluded part of the backstreets of Hanamura at five a.m. sharp.

Angela swallowed, hand-in-hand with Genji as they walked briskly to the rendezvous point. 

The cherry blossoms fell slowly, pink petals fluttering to the ground quietly. The air was still and cool, with no sight of the sun yet. Stars were scattered, few and far apart, across the navy sky.

If this were any other situation, this whole scene would be romantic, and adventurous, with the thump of adrenaline in her veins. 

After all, this was the first time Genji had brought Angela outside the Shimada estate, and Angela didn’t get a chance to explore much of Hanamura before she had been “employed” by the clan.

In any other circumstance, Angela could enjoy the way her heart skipped a beat when Genji tightened his hold on her very much smaller hand. She could relax and enjoy this time with her lover.

But instead of it being Genji’s kisses that were stealing her breath away, it was, in fact, the very real, looming threat of getting killed that was the cause of her dry throat and the steadily-increasing number of butterflies fluttering and flapping around in her stomach.

The wistfulness and longing solidified in her stomach, but she shook her head at herself. Now was not the time to be distracted by what could’ve beens and what ifs, no matter how much she wanted to fantasise. She had to focus.

Genji stopped suddenly, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

Wondering why he had stopped, she followed his hard gaze to the figure wrapped in the darkness before them.

Shrouded in the darkness before them, was a lady with dreads the colour of milk and skin the colour of cocoa wearing an official looking uniform with an Overwatch insignia. 

Angela couldn’t really see her very well in the dim light — until she stepped towards them, out of the darkness, and Angela let out a soft, almost-inaudible gasp.

Her eyes gleamed a dark, inhuman aquamarine, and there were what seemed to be fragments of glowing red metal embedded into her face, above her cheekbones and below her eyes.

Before Angela could even consider what kind of body modifications or cybernetics she could have and for what reason, the Overwatch agent gestured them closer, speaking quickly. 

“Hurry, we don’t have much time.” Her accent was smooth — she sounded vaguely Canadian? — and her voice was pitched low. She sounded like a leader. 

The woman scanned her eyes over the two. “I’m Agent Sojourn. I take it you’re Doctor Ziegler?” 

Angela nodded. 

Agent Sojourn smiled grimly. “Genji’s told us a lot about you. We’ll be keeping you under protection at one of our bases in East Asia. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Angela glanced at Genji swiftly with questions in her eyes that she didn’t dare to voice aloud with a stranger here. 

Was she to be trusted? What would happen to her after this? 

And most importantly —

Would he be okay on his own?

Genji smiled sadly. As usual, he read her like a book. 

Angela’s heart thudded.

Pulling her close, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, then put his forehead against hers, his hands firmly on her shoulders.

Their noses were inches away from each other, and he smelt like hot chocolate and designer cologne.

Genji kept his voice low when he spoke. “I will see you very soon, my angel.” He nodded to the phone Angela clutched in her hands. “Keep it on. I’ll text if anything bad happens and I need an early extraction.” 

She nodded. Despite her protests, Genji had taken it upon himself to collapse the Shimada-gumi before leaving Japan for good. He had estimated it would take six months at most with most of his plans already being set in motion, and set an extraction date of April the 12th. 

Angela had always been bad with dates and birthdays, but this she would remember. 

Genji pulled back and smiled again, but it was shaky. His eyes seemed to be glowing in the darkness, but it was probably just a trick of the light. “I’ll be okay.”

After a pause, he spoke again, with the most conviction she's ever heard from him.

“I love you, Angela.” 

Angela smiled back at him and tried her best not to cry in front of Sojourn. “And I love you, Genji.”

And with that, Genji bit his lip, turned and nodded to Sojourn, and disappeared into the darkness. 

“Just one last thing.” 

Angela turned to look at Sojourn. Heart skipping a beat, her paranoid brain immediately jumped to conclusions — she wasn’t to be trusted, she was going to kill her after Genji left, she shouldn’t have come —

“You do have your biotic tech prototype with you, correct?” 

Angela blinked. Her heartbeat slowed a bit, but bits and pieces of suspicion still remained, planted in her mind. “Yes, I did.”

“Alright, good. We might need it. Now, follow me. We should be heading out.” Sojourn turned and walked up a flight of stairs to a large space, where there was a small airship.

Sojourn clicked something that looked vaguely like a remote, and the doors slid open quietly. She turned to look at Angela expectantly.

Angela took that as her cue to enter, and declined the Overwatch agent’s offers to help her get strapped in. 

(This was her first time in an aircraft like this, but she was pretty sure she knew how to work a seatbelt on her own.)

As Sojourn started the ship up, she spoke in a reassuring tone. “We’ll probably be landing in an hour or two, if the weather’s consistent. You can try to get some rest if you want.”

Angela nodded, though she doubted she would. She felt way too worried.

As the ship began to take off, her mind drifted to thoughts of Genji and when she’d see him again.

April the 12th. 

When the Shimada-gumi and all its terrible dealings would be wiped from existence.

When she could see her love again.

When she would be happy again.

* * *

It only took about three weeks for Angela to get mostly settled in at the Chinese base. Three weeks for her to stop getting lost trying to find her own room, three weeks for her to start making significant progress in her work, three weeks for her to stop thinking about Genji during every waking moment.

It was hard, and sometimes Angela felt like she was going to burst into tears at any moment, but to Overwatch’s credit, they tried their best to accommodate and welcome her. 

They gave her a cutting-edge laboratory and a really nice apartment, and many of the locals helped her out whenever she couldn’t understand the local language.

The Chinese characters were actually fairly similar to what she had seen of written Japanese, which gave her the idea to learn Japanese as a surprise for Genji when she saw him again. 

But that had to wait. Right now, she had to focus on further developing the biotic nanotechnology. 

Sojourn had let it slip that the reason that Overwatch had poured so much research and time into her was that they hoped she would stay with them as the head of medical research and help to pioneer the next generation of medical tech that would help millions of people.

Honestly, Angela had no idea if she would stay or not. 

Obviously it was a huge honour, but was she really ready to take on that big of a role? She was still young and fresh-faced, having been in only a few hospitals after medical school. 

She simply felt she wasn’t experienced enough yet. There were so many other doctors out there — experienced, brilliant minds that could contribute so much — who deserved this position in a high-ranking organisation like Overwatch way more than she did.

That wasn’t to say she didn’t want the position — she still wanted to help anyway she could, but her time out in the field wasn’t over yet. She still had people she needed to save in war camps, in third-world country hospitals, in cities that had never really recovered from the brunt of the Omnic Crisis. 

But if she were to refuse after being shown this much kindness, who was to say they couldn’t take all this help away? Beat her up and leave her to die as they stole her nanobiotics? 

She knew about Overwatch, and had never really held it in high regard. It seemed chock-full of the type of people that believed that anything could be solved with war or violence of some kind, and the destruction its agents left in their wake after their battles only served to strengthen these beliefs in Angela. 

Did she trust Overwatch?

Not really.

Did she have a choice? 

No. 

True, Genji did trust them, and that had to count for something, but sometimes she did disagree with his methods… 

She blinked, shaking the intruding thoughts from her mind.

She couldn’t waste time on doubting Genji right now. He needed her, and she needed Overwatch, as much as she may dislike it.

She focused her eyes back on the test tube she was currently holding. 

Hundreds of what seemed to be tiny light particles swarmed and flickered inside it. They were a beautiful, angelic golden colour, and they shimmered like hope itself.

She couldn’t suppress the proud smile that made its way onto her features, and her heart skipped a beat.

She was going to change the world with this.

* * *

This was it. 

The final test.

Sojourn had very kindly volunteered to be the test subject for the final run.

Angela exhaled. Hours of work and all her passion and tears and sweat and love for Genji — all poured into this can-sized container of nanotechnology that she was holding right now.

Her hands were trembling.

She cleared her throat, hoping that her voice wouldn’t be as shaky as her hands, and nodded to Sojourn. “Ready?” 

Sojourn nodded, and peeled back her sleeve to reveal a nasty gash on her shoulder that looked moderately serious. Standing, she waited.

Angela closed her eyes for a second, praying to anyone — God, Buddha, Asclepius, her late parents, _Genji_ , whoever — and placed the container on the floor at Sojourn’s feet, pressing a button on its side that made it expand like a flower blooming, as golden light emitted from the base.

Angela stared at her wound. 

A few seconds of heavy silence passed, both of them holding their breath. 

Nothing was happening. 

Another twenty seconds. 

Still nothing.

Angela felt just about ready to cry. 

Turning away from the other woman, she stared blankly at the floor, wondering where she had gone wrong. Perhaps it was the size of the canister. Maybe she’d made an error in the nanites themselves —

“Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela turned, mentally preparing herself for an awkward “it’s going to be okay, you’ll get it next time” talk and trying her best not to let the moisture that had pooled in her eyes fall.

She was fully expecting failure. 

She was definitely not expecting the awestruck look on Sojourn’s face as she marveled at the gash stitching itself together. 

Skin formed and melded together to become whole again, and within seventy seconds (she glanced down at her watch periodically), the wound was fully closed. 

Sojourn gingerly touched the now smooth skin, letting out a short gasp. It was as if the wound had never been there, no scab, no scar, no abrasion. Just smooth brown skin.

Angela’s breath hitched.

“You’ve done it,” The Overwatch agent breathed.

Angela couldn’t breathe. She let the tears fall.

* * *

Soon, April arrived, and Angela was beginning to get antsy. 

She couldn’t stop checking her phone for texts from Genji, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking Sojourn if she’d heard from him, although the reply was always an amused shake of the head and a kind _“don’t worry about it, he’ll be fine.”_

Angela tried to make herself believe that too.

Her workspace was a mess. Blueprints of the Caduceus Staff (her working name for an on-field, mobile biotic generator) and improved versions of the canister she’d come to call the biotic field littered her desk, papers lying in piles that she needed to remind herself to clear up later. 

The bag she’d brought from the Shimada estate was leaned against the leg of the table, the corner of the smartphone Genji had given her just visible from where she was standing, as if it was taunting her.

She stared at the sleek black device.

_Well…_

Angela looked around. She was alone in the lab. No one would know if she did anything ill-advised, like texting Genji while he was in a very delicate, dangerous situation.

The atmosphere was still and silent, a tension in the air that she so desperately wished to dissolve.

She inched closer to the bag. 

_It wouldn’t hurt to check in, would it?_

Closer.

Sojourn’s voice echoed in her brain — something she’d said not too long ago when Angela had been missing him.

_Best not to contact him, Angela. I have faith in him, but when it comes to covert ops like this, the less communication that’s exchanged, the better._

Angela’s fingers itched. This was just a text message, nothing more. She wasn’t going to jeopardise the entire operation if she sent one text message.

Right?

Genji’s face flooded into her mind, and her heart pounded.

Exhaling, she muttered a small ‘screw it’ and plunged her hand into the bag to retrieve the smartphone, only to squeak when something else vibrated and chimed loudly, disrupting the peace in the air.

Her brow furrowing, she dug around in the bag for the source of the noise, her hand closing in on a rectangular object a second later.

She pulled it out, and her heart dropped.

It was the old cellphone that Hanzo had first given her, and there was a new text. 

Not from Genji, no.

 _Hanzo_ had sent her a message.

Hands shaking, she opened the text.

As her eyes swept over the simple two words he had sent, her heart stuttered. 

Dropping the phone, she ran out of the lab as fast as she could with her heart jackhammering away in her chest, her aching head, and the absolute fear churning uncomfortably in her stomach, to go find someone, _anyone_ who could help.

The brick of a phone lay on the floor, LED screen still lit up with the blinking words, 

`red sparrow.`

* * *

Genji couldn’t breathe.

The rain spattered down unrelentingly and water mixed with the blood that was pouring out of him at a steady rate, successfully filling his lungs and keeping him from inhaling oxygen.

To his side lay his severed arm, crackling with green energy — he forced his eyes away as he felt nausea bubble up from within him.

He couldn’t feel his legs, but he could feel the excruciating pain throbbing through the rest of his body. Hanzo hadn’t taken it easy on him. 

He knew that the only thing sustaining him and keeping him alive then, during the fight, and for now, as he bled out, was Soba.

He could vaguely feel the spirit of his dragon simmering beneath his skin, trying its best to heal whatever was in its ability to do so.

It had been a while since he’d seen that much pure fury and desperation on Hanzo’s face. Usually, Genji only saw flashes of what Hanzo had been taught to hide his whole life.

This was so dramatic and cliché — a ninja dying out in the rain, betrayed by his own brother.

If he weren’t on the edge of death, he would’ve laughed.

He let his mind drift. After all, he wouldn’t be tethered to this existence anymore after a few more minutes. He could afford some self-reflection.

They said that when you were going to die, your life would flash before your eyes, like a timelapse movie. 

Whoever said that was fucking wrong.

When Hanzo had brought his katana down on him, it was more like time had slowed down, and he saw the faces of so many people he had loved in the past, too many to count — his mother, smiling down at him as a child, Hanzo as a child, Chidori, Mika, Ren, Katsuki — 

And at the forefront of them all,

Angela.

Angela, with her baby blue eyes that sparkled like champagne when she got excited, with her smile that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, with her overwhelmingly compassionate spirit that glowed so brightly within her.

He tried to focus on her, the other faces fading into oblivion as he tried to memorise every inch of her; the curve of her lips, the exact shade of golden hair she had, the ridges of her cheeks, the melody of her voice, the smell of her skin, and the feel of her body on his own —

He would kill to have her lips on his just _one more time._

Vaguely, Genji felt his eyes beginning to close. He felt like he was already out of his physical body, like he was floating —

Is this how it ended? 

Him, bleeding out in the black of the night?

Disowned? 

Abandoned?

Alone?

And just then, bright light poured from the sky.

The yellow blinded him, his mouth hanging open of its own volition as the aching pain throughout his entire body vibrated and wailed for attention.

Later on he would come to realise that it was an Overwatch aircraft, but in that very moment it was something ethereal and holy, an envoy sent for him from the gods themselves.

And from that metal monstrosity descended an angel, soft and pure as the driven snow. 

He narrowed his eyes as much as he could, trying his best to ignore the pain that shook through his very core. 

Was that Angela? 

He must already be dead then.

How lucky. An angel wearing the face of his beloved, here to welcome him to heaven, or Valhalla, or whatever afterlife he would be residing in.

Hm. He would’ve thought he would’ve gone to hell, but he’d take what he could get.

He tried to stretch his remaining arm and reach out for her, but his body refused to cooperate, shocks of pain traveling up his arm. 

Funny how he could still feel the pain even though he was dead. Perhaps it was a test of strength, or maybe just a practical joke the angels or deities enjoyed playing on hapless souls.

All he could do was blink at the holy figure running (was she running? his brain was moving so slow he couldn’t tell) towards him and try his best to voice out something, _anything._

His lips formed the word _Angela_ , but the only sound that came out of his bloodied lips was a garbled splutter. 

The syllables were incomprehensible as he choked out blood and water and went into a coughing fit, gagging on his own mucus and blood that was mixing with the rain that was hailing down at a steady rate.

He couldn’t breathe. 

Her eyes locked into him, and the angel’s (Angela’s?) face twisted in something that looked vaguely like sorrow.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fell shut was her yelling something incomprehensible behind her shoulder, her voice high and panicked, and moving speedily towards him.

Everything faded to darkness. He felt peace overcome him. If he had the strength, energy, or control over his body, his lips would have curled upwards in some semblance of a smile.

This was it. 

He was finally moving on.

* * *

Genji’s life had been ebbing rapidly until they’d gotten him back safely to base, and if Angela was panicking before, she was having a full-blown meltdown now. 

They’d done what they could, performed emergency surgery, stitched him up to the best of their ability, tried to keep him stable, but it wasn’t sufficient.

To her relief, the biotic lamps and fields she’d poured her heart and soul into proved their value, successfully keeping him from succumbing to the cold clutches of death. 

This was the exact kind of situation she’d continued to develop the first few prototypes for, and if she wasn’t so fucking _scared_ right now, she would be appreciating them a lot more.

It didn’t take a whole team of medical researchers and doctors to tell her that skin grafts and organ transplants weren’t going to be enough for Genji, not if he wanted to _live_ more than a few months, let alone stay active for a lifetime.

It did, however, take her, that whole team, and then some to source for, develop, and build the cybernetics they needed to keep him alive for the long-term. 

Angela knew that this decision would change his life drastically, and while it was made for his sake, she knew that this would be a decision she would carry on her shoulders for the rest of her life, whether he responded to it positively and accepts it, or not.

She wished she could wake him up and ask him.

It was his body. 

It should be his decision to make. Not hers.

But there was no guarantee that if she woke him up he’d be coherent. Or that they could work fast enough to install the cybernetics without there being a major issue. Or that he’d live after being pulled into consciousness.

The risks were too much, too high, for Angela to even consider trying to wake him up. 

So, she tugged the weight of the decision onto her shoulders, and got to work.

They kept him on a mix of cryostasis and biotic field treatment for three weeks - the three most gruelling, high-tension, _terrifying_ weeks of her life, the cybernetics development keeping her up till four in the morning every night, and night terrors of Genji’s blood on her hands preventing her from getting any sleep at all.

Saving someone’s life was a lot of work, but saving the love of your life’s life was both torture and a lot of work.

Angela was pretty sure that the sight of Genji‘s sleeping face was the only thing that kept her own heart from giving out at least twice in those three weeks.

The tentative smile she got after he woke up, post-cybernetics surgery, when the first thing he saw was her —

It made everything worth it, really. 

As she fussed over his vitals and checked i’d everything was in place and functioning properly, Genji gazed at her with a dazed look in his eyes, soft smile still on his face. 

Her heart clenched, and she got the strangest feeling of déjà vu.

* * *

It wasn’t easy on them or their relationship. For Genji, it was difficult adjusting to a body that ran mostly on cyborg enhancements. For Angela, it was difficult dealing with someone adjusting to a body that ran mostly on cyborg enhancements, both as a doctor and as a significant other.

The first few weeks were alright. Genji was responding positively to cybernetic tests and his training. He openly found it fascinating, and often greeted Angela with a smile and a kiss. 

There was just one problem: he seemed to see it as a temporary thing, like one day he’d wake up and he’d have his human body back, which was understandably a very harmful impression to have of the whole situation.

Angela knew it wasn’t healthy, but she let it slide, thinking that he’d be happier that way. The guilt that festered in her _needed_ him to be happy, _needed_ him to be okay with what she had done. 

It felt so good. Like things were back to normal. Like they could get through this together. The rawness of it reminded her of when they first met. They were doctor and patient again. Just Genji and Angela again. 

So she stayed quiet.

That was her first mistake.

The first month passed. He began to break out of his delusion. He became closed off, snapped at everyone but Angela, and had frequent panic attacks and temper flares. 

He wasn’t the same Genji she’d met in Shimada Castle.

The old Genji hid his resentment under charming smiles and disarming winks. This Genji didn’t bother trying to hide the anger that he harboured, whether it be towards the world or his brother.

She could tell he was having phantom pains, nightmares, and various issues when it came to his cybernetic body and his self-image, but every time she tried to help he’d only push her away, snarling and sneering at her to _leave him the fuck alone._

The guilt clawed at Angela, and whenever she was on the receiving end of a pointed silence or a sharp glare, her throat felt tight.

They spent weeks like this, still technically in a relationship, but could never spend more than an hour in the same room before Genji would snap and Angela would run out, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes and heart squeezing uncomfortably.

Shortly after the first two months of Genji acclimating to his new body, she approved him for combat training, thinking it would be good for him to feel like a warrior again.

That was her second mistake.

After training began, their relationship only got worse. He grew increasingly frustrated at his body, that he couldn’t exactly do the same things he was so used to doing, that he had to go through physical therapy to learn how to use his body in combat, that he had to relearn how to even throw his shurikens, the weapon he’d been using since he was six, using his new cybernetic parts.

This took a toll on his mental health and his self-esteem, and served to make his anger issues more severe.

To add on, Genji believed that Angela had saved him only for Overwatch to make him a weapon, to make use of him as a pawn in their long-term goal of world peace, which made him understandably pissed and loathing towards Angela.

Angela herself had only realised that Overwatch had always planned to save him to turn him into what essentially was a killing machine with or without her help or permission a while ago, but didn’t tell him, for fear of this exact situation happening.

And now that the worst situation was happening, he wouldn’t even let her explain at all.

It was her third mistake, and the most fatal.

The climax of the building tension came months later, when his arm suddenly malfunctioned during a combat simulation, causing extreme pain, which led to Genji losing it and screaming _I WISH I NEVER MET YOU_ directly at Angela.

Angela had stared at him, heart smashed to smithereens in her chest, and left.

She spent the next few nights crying onto Sojourn’s shoulder, a bottle of vodka usually accompanying her late night episodes of ugly sobbing. 

Of course, she had to face him eventually. 

She kept it civil and professional. After all, she was still his doctor, and he was still her patient, as much as she  
wanted to cry every time he turned those red eyes that seemed to simmer with so much hate on her.

They didn’t speak much, if ever, only occasionally to check in on his cybernetics. Even when he was deemed fit to do fieldwork as an active Blackwatch agent, even when he was moved from the special ops unit to the main Overwatch team, even when they had to be on the same team for missions, they didn’t speak much.

And they continued to not speak after Overwatch started to crumble and he took his leave from the organisation.

Angela stayed for a while longer before moving on to places that needed her help the most, how she had originally planned, before the Shimada clan had thrown a screw in her workings.

In spite of all the empty promises and declarations she made softly to herself on days she really felt like absolute _shit_ , Angela never truly got over him. 

Genji would always be her first failed love. He was the one who got away, and nothing would ever change that. 

Until she got a letter from a small village in Nepal, with her address written in smooth, easily recognisable cursive on the same day she received an orange and white notification that popped up on a communicator she hadn’t touched in years, one she only kept for the sentiment.

She replied to both ex-colleagues, promising she’d be there.

* * *

“Good morning, angel.” 

Angela slowly opened her eyes to see Genji propped up on one elbow beside her, mask off as he gazed at her and smiled, the morning sun that streamed in through the apartment curtains bathing him in a lovely glow. He wore a pair of standard issue Overwatch sweatpants and nothing else, and Angela’s heart warmed.

She closed her eyes again, and a smile grew steadily on her lips as she tried her best to imprint this moment into her brain forever.

“Good morning, sparrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> if the story doesn’t make sense:  
> \- hanzo sent that text to angela bc he knew she would want to help and felt kinda bad about u know ,,, Murdering His Brother  
> \- angela stayed w overwatch to help with genji and after genji left they were pretty much already her family so ,,  
> \- if i didn’t make it clear enough basically zen helped genji realise that angela wasn’t at fault (along with all the other anger issues, body image stuff and other canon problems)  
> \- so genji felt bad about how she treated her and decided to write to her (so that links to canon kinda) + assures her that he’s grown and it wasn’t her fault and he understands that now + asks her about the recall message and if she’s going back!!  
> \- she’s just happy to hear from him again and reconnecting after all those years of Tension and Underlying Anger + she forgives him!  
> \- they get together again after the recall and boom happily ever after uwu
> 
> before you comment anything about my plot holes let me just state for the record that I Know there a lot of Fuckin Plot Holes and i can list them all. Here:  
> \- why wouldn’t one of the servants have told sojiro??  
> \- how does omnic crisis even fit in  
> \- how is angela so smart/qualified despite being fresh out of school  
> \- why would She of all Doctors go to hanamura esp one as qualified as Her + surely more doctors than just Her Showed Up?? Where Are They??  
> \- WHERE IS SOBA HALF THE TIME
> 
> so anyway if you read this whole thing tysm for giving this a try :)) i rlly appreciate it  
> also if you’re into gency stay tuned because i actually have a coffeeshop oneshot coming soon lol


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